


Let Me Give You Hell

by soullessbrothers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Canon, Demon Dean Winchester, Dirty Talk, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 05:32:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1066344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soullessbrothers/pseuds/soullessbrothers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate season four opening: A demonic Dean is free from Hell and he wants his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Give You Hell

Dean’s fingers brush along the wall. It’s red, tacky against his skin. He lets go when he finds the right door. A heart circles the right number, Two-Oh-Seven, and he taps at the door. There’s a scramble and he leans into the wood. When it opens, Dean laughs. A woman, short and shapely, has a hand on her hip. She pauses for a moment and glances at Dean’s empty hands.

“So, where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“The pizza.”

Dean laughs. “You’re goddamn hilarious.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, I never liked you.”

She pales. Takes a few steps back. Dean follows her. He turns and shuts the door. As his back turns, she twists to run, but Dean grabs her wrist. He pulls her back. The slam against the wall winds her. She whimpers.

“I’ve waited a long time to gank you, Ruby.”

“No, you, you can’t, I’m helping, I swear I—”

“Can it, bitch.”

Dean grins wider. One hand wraps around her throat. Ruby widens her eyes. She tries to struggle, but he pins her in place. His other hand jams against her skull. He squeezes. Ruby’s mouth snaps open and black smoke pours free. It spreads, shrieks, but it can’t escape. The floor swallows it, the ground, and her empty body collapses. It’s cold, grey. Dean lets go and tips his head as he looks over it. Already dead. He clicks his tongue and presses his foot over lifeless neck. His heel stomps down. There’s a crack, then a gasp.

“Dean?”

“Hey, Sammy. You miss me?”

Sam’s half-naked, still wet from his shower. He chokes. A step back and Dean steps forward. His arms are out, palms up. Sam glances at Ruby. Then, he jumps back. He yanks a knife from under a pile of clothes and launches forward. The blade cuts into Dean’s arm and he hisses. It burns. Dean snaps a wrist out and cracks his heel into Sam’s ankle. Sam yelps, stumbles back. Half a second and Sam is upright again. He swipes the knife out. Dean catches it and knocks it out of his grasp. Sam curses, but Dean’s right there, right against him. He forces him back towards the bed. Sam punches out, but Dean grunts and wrestles him down. He’s stronger, much stronger, and Sam growls.

“You’re not Dean!”

“Dude, don’t you recognise me?”

Dean’s eyes fade. Black spreads over them. He barks another laugh while Sam flinches.

“You’re a, a demon. Dean, listen, I’m here, we can—”

“Demon blood, Sammy? No angels here, huh?”

“It’s not like that! What did you do to, to—”

“Ruby? I told you I’d kill her, man. She’s in Hell. It’s near as damn.”

“ _Exorcizamus te, Omnis Immundus Spiritus, Omnis Satanica Potestas_ —”

“C’mon, Sammy. Best hunter on the goddamn planet and you think you’re gonna exorcise me like some bitch-ass little fuck?”

Sam kicks at Dean’s shin, but Dean pins down his shoulders. His laughs are louder. One hand slides to grab Sam’s neck. Sam narrows his eyes and concentrates. Dean’s laugh dies to a snarl and he squeezes. His nails bite into Sam’s skin. Sam struggles against him, bucks up, but Dean jams a leg between his thighs.

“Dude, I thought you’d be happy to see me. You were trying to make deals all over the place to get me back. Now I’m here.”

“Not like this! Dean, whatever Hell did to you, please, you have to remember who you are!”

“I know who I am. Shit, you know the respect I got down there? You know how free it is?”

“It’s not you!”

“Oh yeah?” Dean snorts. “How’s that demon blood working out for you?”

“Please, please, Dean—”

“No, Sammy. I don’t care. And you know what? Good. You’re doing what’s good for you.”

“Dean—”

“Fuck, you know what I missed? I missed you, Sammy.”

“Get off me!”

Dean bends and grazes his teeth against Sam’s bare shoulder. He grinds up against him. Sam whimpers and tries to tug away, but Dean’s grip is too tight. The fingers at his throat loosen, but they’re still firm enough to keep him trapped in place.

“You want me. You always fucking have. Jess? Man, you fucked up. Hell, you wanted a girl-me and you got a girl-me, huh.”

“Don’t. Don’t. Dean, you’re in there. You can fight this.”

“Fight what?” He chuckles. “This is me.”

Dean’s strong enough to keep Sam in place with one hand. His other undoes his jeans and pushes down from the waistband. Free, Dean rocks his hard cock against the towel around Sam’s middle.  Sam hisses. He keeps struggling, but it fades to rocking hips.

“Oh, now you’re getting it.”

“Dean—”

“It’s you, Sammy. It’s always you.”

Sam groans. Dean sneers and catches his mouth. He kisses roughly and his tongue is iron. Teeth grind in and Sam flinches. His lips bruise. Dean lifts his hips to kick off his bottoms and sweep the towel from around his brother. When Dean breaks the kiss, Sam shivers.

“God, Dean—”

“You always know how to make a guy feel special.”

“Please, I can’t, we can’t—”

He’s ignored. Dean pulls off the bed and stands. It isn’t long before the clothes are wrenched from his body. That tattoo on his chest makes Sam’s heart burn. There’s a burn, like pokers have swept over the skin. The left point of the star is worn away to scarred skin. Tears in his eyes, Sam sits up and reaches to hold it. Dean lets him. When Sam stands, Dean loops his arms around him. The next kiss is softer. Sam chokes.

“C’mon. I got you, man. C’mon.”

That’s enough. Dean kisses him, one soft kiss after another until Sam parts his lips. Dean kisses again. Harder. Sam winces, his mouth swollen. Dean’s hands are at his shoulders and he pushes. There’s another whimper, but Dean’s muscles are taut. To save himself, Sam drops to his knees. Dean lets go of his shoulders and threads his fingers through Sam’s hair. He grabs two fistfuls and tugs him to his groin. Sam closes his eyes, but Dean rocks. Precome trails over his cheeks, along his jaw. Dean holds him with one hand and holds his cock in the other.

“Yeah, open up for me, Sammy. Show big brother how much you love me.”

Dean takes his dick and strokes the wet tip across Sam’s chin. He taps it against Sam’s closed mouth and draws it across shining lips. When Sam opens, Dean doesn’t hesitate. He slides forward and groans as soon as he feels tongue.

“There, fuck, you can do it. Suck. Get me wet for you, baby boy.”

There isn’t a chance for Sam to get used to him. Dean tugs the back of his head forward and thrusts into his mouth. Sam gags, but Dean doesn’t stop. He rocks in and groans. More precome laps at the back of Sam’s throat and he swallows. Dean hisses at the sensation and holds himself half-way in.

“You gotta work open for me, baby.”

He pulls out of Sam’s mouth and slaps his cock back against his cheek. Dean stretches towards the bedside table and smirks at an empty condom wrapper. So, Sam fucked Ruby. Near it is an open tube and Dean grabs it, drops it in front of Sam’s knees.

“Gotta remind you who you belong to, huh? It’s been a long time in Hell, Sammy. You ain’t ready and it’s gonna hurt.”

Sam gets the message. He nods, flushed, and Dean grins again at Sam’s new erection. The hand in his hair is softer. He pets Sam as he watches him cover shaking hands in lube. Sam shifts so his knees are wide apart, balls heavy. Dean rocks his hips against him, dampens his face with the tip of his cock. Sam has to do what he says. He has to bend forward a little, bury his face in Dean’s groin to reach underneath and tease at his hole.

“Two fingers,” Dean warns. “Dude, I know you can take it.”

He can. Sam doesn’t wait to force his fingers in. He hisses. His fingers twist into him. Deeper, and Sam moans wide enough for Dean to push back into his mouth. Dean thrusts almost to the back of his throat, then out. Sam groans around him, tongue pressing into the underside of his cock as he scissors himself open. He doesn’t need another order to add a third finger, even when it burns.

“Just like that, baby. You gonna be ready soon, huh?”

The groan around Dean’s cock gives him away. Dean thrusts in earnest, setting a punishing rhythm. He jack-knifes into Sam’s mouth, hard enough to draw tears from Sam’s eyes. He watches Sam’s fingers pump in and out, faster, in time with his fucks, and it’s too much. Dean takes a step back and yanks Sam up by his hair. Sam cries out, hand pulled away from his ass, and he’s empty, so empty. Dean growls and tugs him around. He shoves at Sam’s back until Sam’s on the bed, feet still on the floor.

Dean kicks his feet further apart. Sam’s spread out, hole wet with lube, cheek against the mattress. It doesn’t take a moment too long to spit into his hand and stroke over his cock. With that and Sam’s mouth, he’s as ready as he’s prepared to wait.

“You ready for me, Sammy? You gonna let me make you feel good?”

The moan is enough. Sam pushes back a little from the bed so he can reach under himself and squeeze his leaking cock. Dean nudges up against his hole. A rock and his dick slides between his ass cheeks, then back down to tap behind his balls. That’s enough teasing. Back at unclenched pink, Dean grinds in. The shout ripped from Sam’s throat is music. Dean ignores the hint of burn and forces his way to the hilt. He holds for a moment and lets Sam stretch around him. Dean digs one hand into the back of Sam’s head and pulls his head back enough to make Sam’s breath ragged. The other stings a slap against Sam’s side.

“Dean, God—!”

“C’mon, baby, you like that? Big brother fucking you? Special place in Hell for you, Sammy. Right with me.”

“Dean—”

He fucks. Sam’s still so tight. Dean grunts and pushes on. He pounds Sam hard enough to redden the skin at his ass and Sam, Sam cries out every time. When Dean bangs against his sweet spot, he screams. The hand under him pumps quickly. Harder, faster. He squeezes. He wets his fingers with precome that won’t stop, that slides between his fingers. Dean lets go of Sam’s hair to grab at his sides, fingers rough, bruising into his skin. Sam buries his face into the blanket and fuck, he keens, he begs in words that can’t escape his mouth.

More thrusts and it’s over, Dean comes, fills Sam with a snarl and keeps moving, spreading it deeper inside him. Sam pumps his fist and groans. He pushes his hips back to keep Dean in him and when he comes, when he comes he loses himself, loses the world, loses his mind.

When Dean pulls out, Sam slumps against the mattress. Dean clicks his tongue to admire his handiwork. Come lines down from his hole and Dean kisses Sam’s back. He mouths down until his tongue is between his cheeks. Hands on his ass, he spreads Sam out.

“Let go for me, baby. Let me see.”

The noise is strangled, but Sam obeys. He unclenches and more pools free. Dean kisses his hole. He flicks his tongue over the first line and swallows. That first taste is enough to hook him. He presses his tongue against Sam’s loose hole and licks him clean, rolling over and over to drink every drop. Sam’s whimpering, but that only makes Dean lap harder. He nips teeth at his cheek and fucks his tongue back into his ass. A flick up and there’s more come, more to swallow.

When he’s done, Dean pulls up to lie over Sam’s boneless body. “I got you, Sammy. You hear me? I always got you.”


End file.
